(no subject)
I wrote this September 19, 2004:
I have determined that I miss my friends incredibly. No matter how much I try to convince myself that I like the people here, I can't let go of the fact that I miss my people.
I miss my crew and how I never had to explain every minute detail of my life to them. I miss how they picked up on my emotions in minutes. I miss all the stupid jokes. I miss all the happy memories. I miss hugs and how my friends smell: their hair, their skin, their clothes. I miss their handwriting and notes in my locker or in my notebook or in the middle of class. I miss songs with them -- listening to the radio while driving or just listening to them, or listening to their new words to old songs. I miss their smiles and their giggles and their funny faces. I miss their hyperness. I miss their warmth. I miss their sarcasm. I miss fighting. I miss saying "sorry." I miss being in class, giving each other the knowledgeable glances. I miss listening to all the problems late into the night. I miss being stressed out over drama or the lit mag or a class. I miss the sounds of their voices. I miss free periods spent in East. I miss walking with them to class in the snow, holding on to each other, hoping we won't fall down. I miss nights spent out and about. I miss being visited at work every so often. I miss having people to take pictures of. I miss having reasons to take pictures. I miss their snickering, just as they turn into full out belly laughs.
I find it weird how the things I missed about the Saints kids, I find I miss of my Wheaties too. When I wrote that, I never knew that a lot of it would apply to the new people in my life. But it did, for the majority. In September, I couldn't concieve the idea that the same traits of friends that I loved would carry over -- actually, I know I thought it impossible. *sigh* It's sad. And I need to sleep.
I have determined that I miss my friends incredibly. No matter how much I try to convince myself that I like the people here, I can't let go of the fact that I miss my people.
I miss my crew and how I never had to explain every minute detail of my life to them. I miss how they picked up on my emotions in minutes. I miss all the stupid jokes. I miss all the happy memories. I miss hugs and how my friends smell: their hair, their skin, their clothes. I miss their handwriting and notes in my locker or in my notebook or in the middle of class. I miss songs with them -- listening to the radio while driving or just listening to them, or listening to their new words to old songs. I miss their smiles and their giggles and their funny faces. I miss their hyperness. I miss their warmth. I miss their sarcasm. I miss fighting. I miss saying "sorry." I miss being in class, giving each other the knowledgeable glances. I miss listening to all the problems late into the night. I miss being stressed out over drama or the lit mag or a class. I miss the sounds of their voices. I miss free periods spent in East. I miss walking with them to class in the snow, holding on to each other, hoping we won't fall down. I miss nights spent out and about. I miss being visited at work every so often. I miss having people to take pictures of. I miss having reasons to take pictures. I miss their snickering, just as they turn into full out belly laughs.
I find it weird how the things I missed about the Saints kids, I find I miss of my Wheaties too. When I wrote that, I never knew that a lot of it would apply to the new people in my life. But it did, for the majority. In September, I couldn't concieve the idea that the same traits of friends that I loved would carry over -- actually, I know I thought it impossible. *sigh* It's sad. And I need to sleep.